______________________________________________________
Autobiography with Fingers
for John Wieners
I dream of a fist,
undelineated lumps
pushing out to form fingers.
On my 11 pm walk
mockingbird, skunk, possum, coyote
hold the struggle for form.
The fist emerges
in the bleak early morning.
I wash towels, make beds.
Poetry asserts itself
humbly,
formed me out of madness when I was young
and knew only magic
watching a tree turn orange
at the boarding school in upstate New York,
reading fairy tales alone in a top floor bedroom.
At my grandmother’s house, I sat on a bench shaped rock.
I felt rescued by her large stone rabbits
and by John Wieners who came to our house in Buffalo
and talked to ghosts while he drank Crème de Menthe
in our dining room.
I pray for an answer to a neighbor’s green plastic grass,
slim stars overhead,
raccoon slipping along the shadows,
possum moving up the driveway.
I woke up and my father was on his way to the hospital,
sweet deranged man
born too early for the medicines that could have saved him.
My sister sat alone in a rocking chair for years,
fierce guardian of the good
in the half-way house in Woodstock, New York.
She came to me in a dream,
thick black hair and Old Testament robes,
with a helpful message from St. Joseph, patron saint of good death.
Today, a man sits crying at the end of a driveway,
his much-loved cat of fifteen years
lies dead in a box at his feet.
I search for clarity among the cucumber leaves,
long for grammatical order,
but loss is the order that comes.
These are the fingers forming.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Phoebe MacAdams was born and raised New York City, but has mostly lived in California, moving to LA in 1986. With the poets James Cushing, the late Holly Prado, Harry Northup, and Jeanette Clough, she is a member of Cahuenga Press, which published five of her eight books, including in 2016 her new and selected volume, The Large Economy of the Beautiful. In 2017, Beyond Baroque published Every Bird Helps: A Cancer Journal. She taught English at Roosevelt High School in Boyle Heights until her retirement in 2011. She lives in Pasadena with her husband, Ron Ozuna. [Author photo by Alexis Rhone Fancher.]
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
I LOVE THIS POEM! LOVE LOVE this poem. It matches my blood exactly.
Posted by: Grace Cavalieri | October 06, 2024 at 10:53 AM
What a lovely narrative poem, Phoebe. I love all the details of family, nature, and of course, "literary stuff," that are interspersed in accessible yet poetic language. I especially love the way it begins with the fist that forms fingers (no doubt to hold a pen) and how that image emerges again throughout the poem. My favorite lines: "Poetry asserts itself humbly ... and knew only magic." Thanks for sharing this "humble," quiet, and yet powerful poem with us. And thanks, as always, Terence, for the inspiration.
Posted by: Cindy Hochman | October 06, 2024 at 11:06 AM
Wonderful startling surprise of a poem, that John Wieners came to Phoebe's house, the man at the end of the driveway, the cucumber leaves the speaker stands among--autobiography plus shock and wonder, that's the equation here. I'm glad you found this poem Terence, and what a portrait of Wieners to set against the poet's story!
Posted by: Don Berger | October 06, 2024 at 11:09 AM
Startling poem! "I search for clarity among the cucumber leaves,
long for grammatical order,
but loss is the order that comes."
Posted by: Bill Nevins | October 06, 2024 at 11:14 AM
one off my all-time favorite poets, and poems, (and painters also), and posts, phoebe's poetry never fails to leave a lingering impact
Posted by: lally | October 06, 2024 at 11:15 AM
Cindy: Thanks for the comment.
Posted by: Terence Winch | October 06, 2024 at 11:38 AM
Prof. Berger: thanks for your comment.
Posted by: Terence Winch | October 06, 2024 at 11:39 AM
What a sweet poem, from the in to the out, which time brings us to. What is the hand? Something to shake. Thanks to Phoebe the radiant and Terence the wise.
Posted by: David Beaudouin | October 06, 2024 at 03:33 PM
David---thanks for your wise and radiant comment.
Posted by: Terence Winch | October 06, 2024 at 05:20 PM
What David beaudouin said! Yes!
Posted by: Clarinda | October 07, 2024 at 09:10 AM
A tremendously moving poem; I especially love its quietly sustained energy and remarkable energies. The line about the sister in the rocking chair "the guardian of the good" and the surprise and sorrow of the halfway house knocked me out...thank you for such fierce beauty, Phoebe.
Posted by: Kym Taylor | October 07, 2024 at 10:50 AM
I love this poem ❤️
Posted by: Eileen Reich | October 07, 2024 at 12:23 PM
Thank you, everyone, for the lovely comments. It means so much to me!!
I am sorry it has taken me so long to get back. I had a Total Knee Replacement Surgery three weeks ago and am slowly recovering. It is taking longer than I thought it would.
Your comments are a delight.
Thank you, and thank you, Terence for including my poem!!
Love, Phoebe
Posted by: Phoebe MacAdams Ozuna | October 23, 2024 at 04:00 PM
Thanks, Phoebe, and good luck with your recovery.
Posted by: Terence Winch | October 23, 2024 at 06:30 PM
Thanks, Phoebe! Always great to hear your voice, ever since your reading at Mountain Home.
Michael Wolfe
Posted by: Michael Wolfe | October 24, 2024 at 02:34 AM
Hi Michael
So good to hear from you. Thank you for this.
Love, Phoebe. U
Posted by: Phoebe MacAdams | October 24, 2024 at 11:10 AM
So very touching. Especially the mention of John—I can really see him in your dining room. Thank you for your wonderful words. Love, Roberta
Posted by: Roberta Ritz | October 24, 2024 at 08:30 PM
Again, thank you for these wonderful comments. I read them and they lift my spirits
Thank you Terence!!
Love, Phoebe
Posted by: Phoebe MacAdams Ozuna | October 25, 2024 at 03:13 PM
Thank you, Terence, for the wonderful work by R.B. Kitaj of John. I love his work and this is a terrific evocation of Wieners.
Love, Phoebe
Posted by: Phoebe M Ozuna | October 26, 2024 at 02:17 PM